The 5 Best Beer Cities in America

The U.S. of A. is going through a beer revolution—pledge allegiance (and raise a glass) to our country's capitals of brew

Los Angeles

The New Frontier of Beer

L.A.’s nightlife is notorious for being more about the scene than the drinks. But of late, this city of saketinis and sprawl has lit up with joints pushing craft beer, and every one of them feels like it couldn’t exist anywhere but Los Angeles.

Right now, the city’s best bars for suds tend to be run by one of two beer gurus. Ryan Sweeney owns the windowless faux-speakeasy Verdugo (Glassell Park), the chill-by-day, party-by-night Surly Goat (West Hollywood), and Little Bear (Downtown), where you’ll want to wash down the Stilton cheeseburger with a Unionist Belgian pale ale by Eagle Rock Brewery.

Then there’s Tony Yanow, co-founder of Golden Road Brewing (one of two city breweries, along with Eagle Rock). He also owns Echo Park’s Mohawk Bend bistro—California-fresh food and seventy-two taps—and Tony’s Darts Away in Burbank, which strongly resembles a BigLebowski set. Instead of a White Russian, you want Russian River Brewing Co.’s Redemption, a rare blonde ale brewed in Santa Rosa.

Late at night, though, the pick is a giant pretzel and an even more giant glass of something German at the Standard hotel’s rooftop Biergarten. There you’ll have two classic L.A. views to choose from: the glittery, beautiful skyline and the glittery, beautiful women.—Christian Debenedetti

Throngs of thirsty outdoorsmen, beer-friendly laws, and some of the country’s purest water have made the Mile-High City America’s craft-beer capital. Drinkers descend by the thousands in October for the Great American Beer Festival (the country’s largest), but the season lasts all year here, at beer-focused restaurants like Freshcraft and bars like Ale House at Amato’s, which has forty ever-changing taps.

Colorado law lets brewers sell their beer on-site, keeping prices down and the start-up vibe alive in the state where craft brewing began. It also means you can drink right from the source.

There’s enough beer brewed within city limits to make drinking a neighborhood affair, and up-and-coming hoods like Platte Street and the Art District on Santa Fe are anchored by suds factories. Duck under the bay doors of a former auto garage to try Denver Beer Co.’s Graham Cracker Porter, which tastes like a campfire in a glass, or into a ninety-four-year-old soda-bottling plant for Renegade’s coffee-infused strong ale.

Downtown, stalwart breweries Wynkoop and Great Divide flank the eighty-nine-tap mecca Falling Rock. Both are only steps from Coors Field, where you can watch the Rockies without having to "taste the Rockies"—the housemade beers at the Blue Moon Brewing Co. are just behind section 112 in right field.—William Bostwick

Our Founding Fathers bickered over inalienable human rights while tossing back brews in the dark corners of ye olde Philly taverns, and this town’s only become more beer-crazy in the ensuing 236 years. To get the full experience, you gotta go mobile. Here’s a pint-by-pint guide to the best beer-focused bar crawl in America.—Eric Sullivan

1. The Beer-Bar Brunch

Memphis Taproom

Wake up with microbrews and delicious bar grub at this Kensington standby. The mellow front dining room is fine if you’re a slow starter, but things are much livelier outside by the picnic tables and the former ice cream truck that’s now a bar.

**2. A History Lesson in the Form of a Pint **

Yards Brewing Company Tasting Room

Break a Benjamin to get some Tavern Spruce ale, a modern riff on find retro brews like General Washington’s Tavern Porter, which has aged better than the Constitution.

3. The Local

Standard Tap

The city’s best day-drinking hangout has twenty-four beers on tap, all sourced from within a hundred miles of Philly.

4. The Afternoon Ale House

Monk’s Café

This famous beer temple was one of the first in the U.S. to regularly serve Belgian beers on draft, and its selection remains among the best.

5. A Beer Bar in Disguise

Tria Wine Room

Ignore the name—Tria takes the canned craft beers it serves as seriously as it takes grape juice.

6. Your Nonliquid Dinner

Alla Spina

The bar snacks come from the mind of arguably America’s best Italian chef, Marc Vetri. Try the addictive poutine with guinea-hen-leg bolognese, and wash it down with the Piccolo saison from Liguria, aged in Chardonnay barrels for a vinous kick.

7. The Suds-Soaked Dance Party

Silk City

End your night at a mash-up of Jersey diner, beer garden, and guaranteed late-night rager. Bonus: Questlove spins occasionally in the attached lounge.

A hard-working frontier town built on booze (one of its earliest businesses was a distillery on downtown’s Whiskey Island), Cleveland has no truck with pretension. Just want a damn beer? You got it: a nice cold lager, clean, bright, balanced. But this is Cleveland, so the beer is Dortmunder Gold from Great Lakes Brewing Co., the best of its kind this side of the Rhine. In a city where you can watch the symphony orchestra while eating a burger at the Happy Dog bar, the beer is top-notch but down to earth, a welcome respite from snootier beer meccas on the coasts. Market Garden’s brown ale is the country’s best; the pedal-in bar Nano Brew Cleveland will pour you a bready amber ale while they tune your bike; even Heinen’s, the (proudly) family-run grocery chain fills growlers.—W.B.

Who grew your beer? In San Francisco, where you’d ask the same of your broccolini, local beer has a whole new meaning. Sure, duck out of the fog into one of this hard-drinking town’s hundreds of dives and chances are good you’ll find west coast hop bombs and a sour or two next to the peanuts and PBRs, but what makes San Francisco unlike any other beer haven is its hyper-experimental, foodie-focused beers made by a new breed of Bay Area micro and nano breweries. Almanac, leading the charge, brews with seasonal produce like plums, blood oranges, and fennel. Pacific Brewing Labs, started in a downtown garage, makes a killer hibiscus saison; Moonlight is partial to redwood twigs and cedar bark picked from brewer Brian Hunt’s yard. Foraged that taco? Hand-caught those smelt? Get a beer to match.—W.B.

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our User Agreement (effective 1/4/2014) and Privacy Policy (effective 1/4/2014). GQ may earn a portion of sales from products that are purchased through our site as part of our Affiliate Partnerships with retailers. The material on this site may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, cached or otherwise used, except with prior written permission of Condé Nast.